The Dream
by 4421marr
Summary: Edward was always a big dreamer who would do anything to achieve 'The Dream', but when he goes too far, Bella is pulled into the mix. Now they're on the run, and the chance of escaping is small. Left with no choice they must enter the deadly game they're trying to escape, and somehow manage to spin the mafia world on it's head. The only problem? This time he has something to lose.
1. Prologue

_So_ sorry for starting another story! This damn thing wouldn't get out of my head, but I will update my other stories soon.

* * *

Money.

It's what makes the world go round.

It's what lights your house, what keeps water flowing through your pipes. It's what feeds you, what takes care of you.

Money is survival.

If that's the case, we're trying to live forever.

Money is what started all this shit. No matter what the others say, no matter what _anyone_ says, it was money. They said it was because of his 'issues'. I say that's bull. I've known Edward for years, and let me tell you, he is one selfish motherfucker. He would do anything to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was the _dream_.

You know the one. Big house on the hills, garage full of cars, diamonds, gold, and as many women as he could get. And he knew there was only one way to get it.

Being born in a dead-end town like Forks was a curse. The probability that you could make something of yourself was low, and the chance of you getting out? Even lower. People around here are a bit too close. Leaving the town is equivalent to dying. So, don't expect to ever hear from your family again, because to them, it was your rep over family.

Yea, it's fucked up, but that's just the way things work.

Edward was a special case. He barley gave a fuck about anything, especially not his jacked up family. He dreamed for bigger things, and the only way to get that here was illegally. He didn't have anything to lose, but he had everything to gain. So, where's the risk? He knew he wouldn't get too deep into shit. He had me- The Police Chief's Precious Little Daughter.

But he did. He went _way_ too far. For once, Edward Mason _really_ fucked up.

So how did I get into this, you may ask? Trust me, anyone else will say it's because I felt attached- Apparently, childhood friends are one in a million. But like most things about us, that's bull.

To be honest, I was infatuated with 'The Dream' too. Of course, I never had the balls to do what Eddie did, but that all changed that night.

_Everything_ changed that night.

* * *

Chapter 1 will be up in a few days.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're such a little _bitch."_

_Pain..._My body aches, and I can barley force out a groan when discomfort in my stomach burst in a flash of white heat. S_hit_... They kicked me again. A manicured hand fisted itself in my hair, jerking my head up until I'm face-to-face with cold blue eyes. Damn, I hate this chick. She curled back her lips in a smirk, obviously trying to egg me on further.

"Take this as a lesson!" she announced gleefully, sharing a victorious look with her group of plastic clones "Stay away from Edward." she suddenly lets go, and my face slams into the concrete. Watching them flounce away in their stilettos, I pressed down every ounce of hatred I was feeling. Instead of tackling her to the ground and beating her face in like I wanted, I instead redirected my attention to the alleyway between the two buildings they had just cornered me at.

"And you stood there. The. Whole. Fucking. Time." A cold chuckle reached my ears, before _he_ slunk his way out of the shadows, an amused look identifiable on his pretty little face.

Edward was actually really damn hot, I could admit. He had this ruggedly-handsome thing going on. Tousled bronze hair, stunning green eyes, strong chin, and a lean, toned body. Pair that up with his bad-boy reputation, and you have a panty-dropping machine, along with his own personal fan club. I, on the other hand, was not as... 'Gorgeous'. My hair was brown, my eyes were brown, and I was short and soft. I wasn't 'toned' or 'lean'- Hell, I couldn't run ( or do any athletic activity for that matter) for shit- and yet, I was the closest thing to a 'best-friend' he had, despite our differences. Because of the fact he preferred me over other girls, I was often subjected to 'bullying', and the occasional beating.

You know, the usual. Putting hate letters and other sickly things in my locker, or my desk. The loud insults thrown my way in the hallway, knocking over my lunch, spilling milk on my head. I remember one girl even had the guts to throw all my books out of the window.

Good times, good times.

Worst part was that I couldn't even fight back. If my father found out... Hell, then all of my 'privileges' would be taken away. No longer would I'd be able to prevent Eddie-_dearest _from being incarcerated for the _fifth_ _fucking time_. No, so for now, I'll just lay there and take it like a good little girl.

Edward found that hilarious. Even though I was doing it for _him_, he would refuse to help me. It's not like I expected him to jump in, but a few words from him to his fan girls would be more than enough. Then again, he was a sadistic bastard, so I never really expected him to do anything in the first place.

"Come on ,_ Bells,_" his voice was cool and soft, like velvet. Even though he annoyed me, I still liked listening to his voice. It was...soothing, in some twisted, fucked-up sort of way. "Red is a good color on you." I rolled my eyes, turning my head to spit out the blood that accumulated in my mouth. Shit, she cut my lip. I ran my tongue over the fresh wound, flinching at the sting. Looks like I'll have another trip to the nurse.

I pushed myself up to my feet, stumbling, before using the wall for balance. The whole time Edward just looked at me, a sick smile on his face. Dammit, I hated him sometimes. I limped along the crosswalk, working out the kinks in my body. The boring, usual faces of my classmates followed us, hushed voices whispering behind hands. Heh, what a sight we've must have been. A tiny, badly beaten and bruised girl hobbling across the grass, followed by a dreamboat who didn't seem to give a fuck.

Huh, funny how this is considered my 'usual' routine. Maybe it's a sign? You know, foreshadowing future events?

Nah, fuck that.

Soon enough, I was standing in front of the Principal's office. It would be quick enough to go here first- I would end up being sent here anyway, and his office was closer to me than the nurse's. I pushed the door open, not caring enough to knock, before dropping myself into one of the plush chairs that flanked his desk. His head shot up and shock, before he slowly took in my appearance.

"Ms. Swan... How many times has it been?"

"Seven, sir."

"And what did I say last time?"

"That the next time would be the last, sir."

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

There were a _lot_ of things I wanted to say. For example, Fuck you, Fuck your school, What the hell, Do you not see the scars on my fucking face? Take action you fat fuck! But, instead, I kept silent. I steadied my eyes on his large, red face, sweating profusely as his sausage-like fingers fumbled with the figurines on his desk. Why the hell did he even take on this job is he knew he couldn't handle it?

The principal was a nervous bitch of a man, who had a habit of breaking down in the middle of meetings. I was somewhat on close terms with him- every time I went to the nurse to get patched up, she reported it to him. He liked to 'take charge' by threatening to call my father if I didn't tell him what's wrong.

Taking care of a bullying case was like a gold medal to teachers. And this one had hopes that it would secure his position. Everyone and their mom knew he was going to get fired soon.

I redirected my gaze to the faux oriental carpet that decorated the wooden floor. I traced the intricate patterns with the tip of my shoes, ignoring the speech he had started on. It was always the same- That I didn't have to be scared, and I could tell him anything. Just regular shit I couldn't care less about.

"Well, Isabella, I think it would be best if you go home early. Remember-this is the _last_ time. One more, and I have to get your father involved. And you know how buy he is, and shouldn't have to be dealing with this nonsense."

So his daughter getting attacked and viciously beating once a week is considered nonsense? Oh, how I would like to stick my foot up his-

Chill, Bella.

I grabbed my bag and pushed the chair out of the way, knocking it over as I made my way to the door. He stood up to say something, But I'll never know what it was, because at that moment I slammed the door and stalked my way through the small office.

…...

Harsh breathing. The feeling of heavily glossed lips brushing against his ear.

Low, husky moans of passion.

Legs wrapping themselves around his waist in a vice grip, hands clutching at the fabric that covered his back.

He chuckled again, burying his face in the alabaster junction between her neck and her shoulder. Wisps of dark brown hair brushed his face,her sweet-smelling shampoo overriding his senses. Who was this again? Oh well. It didn't matter.

It never did.

Graceful hands moved by themselves, performing a routine he was more than used to.

Long fingers slowly sliding up bare arms, across a well-endowed chest, taking the time to softly squeeze the firm mounds, before continuing their descent downwards, passing by a toned stomach and her silky, unbuttoned shirt, brushing past rounded hips before making their way lower long, toned legs. Finally, _finally_, they crept their way under the black mini-skirt that hid his prize, delicately shifting the lacy fabric of her moist panties to the side, eagerly probing her-

"HEY, Edward, I need- _Oh_, what's up, Miss Lane?"

Fuck.

The woman threw her head back in shock, brown pupils dilating before she pushed Edward off of her, jumping off of the oak desk she was just perched on. Taking just enough time to pull her shirt together, she pushed past Bella and raced down the hall. Said annoyance decided to snicker at the sight. "Wow... You're really a whore, aren't you?"

"It fits my image." he mumbled, distracted by watching that great, _great_ ass bounce down the hallway. An ass that he was just about to hit if it wasn't for-

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" he hissed, suddenly remembering the anger he was supposed to have. He zeroed in on the tiny little brunette who decided to push past him, ignoring his inquiry in favor of going to her locker. "Oh, stop whining. It's not like she _won't_ be all over you in two days, anyway." Yanking off her lock, she grabbed her crap, dropping it on the counter next to her.

For some reason, her nonchalant attitude towards his sex life made Edward very agitated for reasons he couldn't explain. Why couldn't she just act like every other girl around here? At that fleeting thought, a devious plan came to his mind. Fixing his trademark smirk in place, Edward sauntered over to Bella's unsuspecting form, mischief in his eyes. In one fluid motion he trapped her against the wall, arms on either sides of her hips as he pressed his body against hers. If _this_ didn't get her going...

"You hurt me Bella." he whispered in her ear, making sure his voice was husky- The girls loved that "Here I am, shirtless and horny, and you just walk past me. You know I have a thing for brunettes. Do you not find me _attractive_?" He shifted closer, one arm finding itself latched around her waist. Bella's silence spurred him on. _Finally_, she shut the fuck u-

"Ah, _SHIT!" _stumbling backwards, Edward's hands flew to his chin. Did this bitch seriously just-?

"You _headbutt_ me? Really?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" The attacker in question turned around, lazily relaxing on the metal row before bringing up a hand to rub the back of her head. "Your jaw is hard as shit. Really, do you eat something special for that, I mean _damn_. You could cut a stone with that thing. Suck it up, you're not even bleeding.

Still scowling, he rubbed his jaw in an attempt to weaken the burning sting. " Why the hell won't you do that when Jessie and her Slut Squad team up on you? Hell, I know what you're capable of." Quirking an eyebrow up in question, her lips morphed into a mocking smirk.

"and that's why you stand there while they beat the shit out of me? You want your ' best friend' to realize her potential, or some other bull-crap like that? Please." she rolled her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder in that haughty matter she always revealed when she hung around him. "You know damn well why I can't."

'And?"

"... You know, they would make you their bitch in jail."

"I would like to see that."

"I could make it happen. Besides, you just _scream '_Prison Bitch."Nice features, in shape, pretty face Hell, they would tear you up. You'd be Grade A prison bitch material." He snorted, flipping back stay pieces of hair that stuck to his sweaty face with a flick of his neck.

"What did you want, anyway?"

"I need you to take me home."


End file.
